


Kaylee

by gblvr



Category: CSI: Las Vegas
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-26
Updated: 2009-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-02 10:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gblvr/pseuds/gblvr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg deals with the aftermath of a murder-suicide....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kaylee

**Author's Note:**

> Additional Warnings: disturbing content, violence against a child
> 
> Written for bernie_laraemie as part of Gil/Greg Fic-a-thon #1 on LJ. Words to include were **butterfly, demands, forever**; dislikes included **the everyday life of the CSI forgotten**.

The feeling that had been niggling at Greg since Grissom handed out the night's assignments was back. Greg and Sara were out on a DB in a dumpster; Grissom hadn't had any details beyond the location, an address in one of the seedier parts of Vegas, and the area played host to any number of junkies, pushers and streetwalkers. It could have been any of them, or none of them, but Greg couldn’t shake the feeling that this one was going to be more unpleasant than usual.

When they arrived, Dave waved them over. He leaned close, speaking softly as he gave them the details: a couple of dumpster divers had found a little girl, no more than five or six, while scrounging for stuff. "It’s…" Dave shrugged helplessly, "she's a mess, guys."

Greg's heart started to race, and he pushed past Dave so he could hoist himself up high enough to see, uncaring that he wasn't wearing gloves or any other protective gear. The jittery feeling in his gut tightened into a hard knot when he saw her. She was bruised and battered almost beyond recognition, but it was _her_. He lowered himself to the ground, facing the dumpster, resting his head against the rim. It was all he could do to keep it together as the memories flooded in….

 

_Murder-suicides were messy, and this one was no exception. After a three-hour standoff with the police, it looked like the guy had shot himself; his demands for safe passage were ignored, and when the SWAT team tried to move in, they heard shots. The coroner gave an earlier time of death to the woman, who had been stabbed repeatedly. Grissom called it -- she was the murder, he was the suicide. Greg privately agreed, but of course he couldn't let his boss know that, so he continued to speculate as they worked._

Greg was processing the woman, and Grissom was working on the man, on opposite sides of the room, when they heard it. The cops outside said the scene had been cleared, but the noises coming from the closet were telling a different tale.

Greg drew his firearm, and hitched his head towards the closet. When Grissom nodded back, he stood and crossed to the door. He yanked it open, expecting…well, he wasn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't a tear-stained little girl wearing butterfly hair-clips. He immediately holstered his gun, and knelt in front of her.

When she shied away, Greg put his hands out where she could see them. "I'm Greg. I want to help you. Is that okay?"

She looked at him and shook her head. "Stranger. Not 'sposed to talk to strangers."

Greg smiled at that. "That's good. I am a stranger, but it's okay. I work for the police."

"Are you going to help my mommy?"

"Oh, sweetie, I wish I-" Greg stopped himself before he said something to set her off. "How about I help you instead? What's your name, sweetheart?"

"My name is Kaylee."

"It's nice to meet you, Kaylee." Greg peeled off his glove, and extended his hand, offering to shake, waiting until she had grasped his fingers to speak again. "Will you let me take you outside?"

Kaylee regarded him seriously before she nodded, and stepped close enough that Greg could pick her up. He pressed her face to his shoulder, then turned to Grissom, who nodded and gestured for Greg to go first.

 

He could hear Sara calling his name, but he ignored her, trying to get his emotions under control -- if he freaked out at a scene, Grissom would rip him a new one, no matter the reason -- so he had to get this under control. When he thought he could face Sara and Dave without crying, he brushed past them to retrieve his kit.

When he moved to climb into the dumpster so he could begin to process the body, Sara grabbed his arm. "Are you okay? I can do the body if you want."

"No! I mean…I’ll be fine, Sara. I want -- no, I _need_ to do this for her." He looked at Sara as he spoke, knowing that she would see that he wasn’t fine. He also knew that if he had any chance at all of doing getting through this, he needed to know what had happened, and do what he could to make it right. "Please, Sara. Let me…."

Sara just looked at him for a long time before she nodded, and said, "All right, I'll take the alley, and you can take the dumpster. Don't forget to note your prints for exclusion." She reached across the space between them, and touched him on the shoulder, looking like she wanted to say something else, but in the end, she just trailed her fingers down to his elbow, squeezing it before she let go.

Greg closed his eyes in relief, letting out the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. After a second or two, he heard Sara beginning to take photos and ask questions; shaking himself, he turned to do the same, first with the outside of the dumpster, then with the inside.

Working methodically, he printed, photographed and bagged anything that looked out of place before turning to the tiny body. After photographing the plastic Kaylee was wrapped in, he gently tipped her forward, looking beneath the body for evidence; he photographed the area, but didn't see anything that caught his eye. He slipped the camera into his pocket, and placed the individual bags into a larger paper bag. After labeling the bag, and setting it outside the dumpster he decided it was time to go back to the lab; it looked like Sara was wrapping up her end of things as well. He stood again, and called Dave over.

"I'm ready to take her out. Do we have anything besides bags, like a blanket?"

Dave looked at him oddly for a second before he nodded, and turned back to the coroner's van. When he returned to the dumpster, he was carrying a green wool blanket, folded in quarters. "Will this do?"

Greg nodded, not trusting his voice, and reached out to accept the blanket. Dave shook his head, and climbed up into the dumpster. "Let me help."

Together they wrapped her in the blanket, and all Greg could think was that he would have loved her better, would have never hurt her or made her cry. He would have kept her safe.

When they stood to climb out, Dave touched Greg on the shoulder. He turned to see the other man standing with open arms. "I'll hold her while you get out, and pass her to you."

Greg nodded and handed off his burden. Once he was on the ground, he took her back, cradling the wrapped bundle against his chest as he carried it to the van. He pulled open the rear doors and crawled inside, where he sat on the floor holding her, rocking her like he had before, humming tunelessly.

 

_Somehow, between them, they managed to get Kaylee out of the house without letting her see either of the bodies. Grissom walked close, hand against the small of Greg's back, and Greg could feel his pulse in the fingertips that were pressing against his spine. _

"It's okay. Everything's going to be okay." He wasn't sure if Grissom was trying to reassure himself, Greg or Kaylee.

When they got outside, Grissom stalked off to the nearest cop, and Greg took Kaylee over to the back of the SUV that he'd driven to the scene. He opened the door, and tried to set Kaylee on the back seat, but she refused to let go.

"Kaylee, sweetheart? Can I put you down for a minute? I want to call someone to come and take care of you." The arms around his neck tightened and he heard a muffled 'no'.

Greg rubbed her back softly and whispered to her. "It's okay. I won't let you go if you don't want me to." He crawled into the SUV, still holding her, making sure that he didn't bump anything against the doorframe.

Greg reached behind the seat, searching for a blanket. When he found it, he opened it enough to cover Kaylee's shoulders, and settled in to wait for Grissom, who was no doubt lecturing the rookies who'd cleared the scene.

Greg awoke with a start; he'd fallen into a light doze, and pins and needles feeling pricking at his arm let him know it had been a while.

"Kaylee?" When there was no answer, Greg reached back and loosened her hold on his neck so that he could shift Kaylee into a more comfortable position. She whimpered a bit, and Greg shushed her, rocking and humming a bit until she fell back to sleep.

"Greg?" The quiet voice startled him and he felt his arms tighten around the little girl in his lap before he forced himself to relax.

"Shit, Gris, don't do that." Greg pitched his voice low, but he was sure the frown on his face would get the message across.

"Sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I've called social services; they'll be here in few minutes." He looked back towards the house, then to the end of the cul-de-sac. "Warrick's going to come and finish processing the scene so we can go down to the station with Jim and give him a statement."

Greg nodded, not commenting.

Grissom touched his arm, and when Greg looked up it was Gil looking back at him. "Greg?"

"I'm fine, Gil." He knew Gil was still a bit rattled by what had just happened, but after the initial adrenaline rush, all his concern had been for Kaylee. "Just worried about her. How much do you suppose she saw?"

"At a guess? I'd say all of it."

"Jesus. Poor thing…."

"She'll be okay -- social services will find her family, and they'll take care of her." As he spoke, Gil trailed his fingers over Greg's forearm and grasped his hand. When the lights from Warrick's SUV flashed across them, Gil squeezed Greg's fingers and turned away.

 

Greg rode to the lab in the back of the coroner's van, holding Kaylee; Sara drove the SUV back on her own. When they arrived, Sara went to check in the evidence. Doc Robbins was waiting at the back door with a gurney, but Greg shook his head, and the coroner let him pass.

Greg could see there were other bodies waiting, but Robbins followed him to an empty table, and he and Greg started to work. First they unwrapped the blanket and set it aside. Next came the plastic bag she'd been wrapped in, then her pajamas. After Greg bagged and labeled each item, he stepped back, not wanting to see, but knowing he had a responsibility to be here.

When Robbins began to make record his notes, he referred to Kaylee as 'the victim.' Greg interrupted, "Her name is Kaylee. Kaylee Michaels."

"You know the victim?"

Greg swallowed back tears before he answered, "Yeah. I do. She was…Gris and I found her at a scene about six months ago. Do you remember that murder-suicide, boyfriend stabbed the mother and killed himself after a stand-off with the cops?"

Robbins merely nodded, and turned back to the table and his notes.

 

_In the end, social services hadn't been able to find Kaylee's family. Her mother had been an only child whose parents had died several years earlier, and no one seemed to know who Kaylee's father was._

When Greg heard that Kaylee was going to be placed in permanent foster care, he petitioned for custody; he knew it was a long shot, but he felt like he had to try. It wasn't a surprise when he was turned down, but it still hurt.

What was a surprise, though, was Gil.

They'd been dating for a few months at that point, trying to take their time, getting to know each other better and feeling out the boundaries of what worked and what didn't, both at the lab and in their off-time. Neither had broached the subject of living arrangements, and even though Greg knew how he felt about Gil, he didn't want to rush things. They were happy, and if his friends thought it was odd that he was content with things taking forever, no one mentioned it.

They were coming off a double when Greg received notice of the court's decision. Gil had taken one look at him standing on the doorstep, and known, without Greg telling him, what happened. He pulled him inside and just held him while he cried and Greg had known in that minute that this was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

It wasn't the way that he wanted to ask; hell, he hadn't even known until that minute that he wanted to, but he couldn't stop himself. "Marry me." He felt himself flush even as he said it, but he didn't look away from Gil as he spoke.

Gil didn't even blink or pause for breath before he said 'yes.'

 

"She was placed in your care less than a month ago. You want to tell me what happened?" Brass was playing good cop today; his tone was soft, questioning, without being accusatory. He was trying to gain their confidence, but it didn't look like it was going to work.

Greg was behind the one-way glass with Gil, watching as Brass and Sara questioned Kaylee's foster parents. The mother, a tiny woman with glasses and frizzy blonde hair, fidgeted with the cup of coffee Sara had offered her when she first arrived, and the father stared straight ahead. Neither of them spoke.

Sara pushed an evidence bag across the table towards the mother. "We matched your fingerprints to a set we lifted off the bag Kaylee was found in. We know that you wrapped her up and threw her in that dumpster, Mrs. King. What we don't know is who killed her."

Greg made a choked-off noise in the back of his throat. Gil squeezed his hand in sympathy.

"For my part, I don't think you did it, Mrs. King." Sara turned to the father. "Whoever killed Kaylee was strong, and had big hands. Kind of like your hands, Mr. King."

Greg closed his eyes as Brass went on, wishing he could shut out the words.

"What I don't understand is why you did it. Was it the extra work? You gotta a lot of kids at home -- Kaylee made what? Six? Or was it something else? Maybe you just couldn't deal with it when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night. We know that Mrs. King works the night shift. It must be hard for you to get up in the morning when you spend half the night dealing with a kid that's not even yours."

When neither of the foster parents spoke up, Sara picked up where Brass left off.

"Since neither of you wants to tell us what happened…I'll tell you how we think it went down. Mrs. King tucked all the kids into bed before she left for work. Sometime in the night, Kaylee had a nightmare, and woke up screaming, which woke up the other kids. When you couldn't get her calmed down, you started to slap her, and kept slapping her until she was unconscious. You went back to sleep, and in the morning you left for work as usual.

"Mrs. King, when you went in to wake the kids that morning, the girls told you about Kaylee screaming and about your husband slapping her, and when you saw Kaylee, you knew that she was dead. You told the girls that Kaylee wasn't feeling well, and sent them off to school, and then you wrapped her up and dumped her.

"Of course, this is just speculation on my part, and since the only proof we have is against you, you'll be the one to stand for trial, Mrs. King."

Mrs. King's head came up at that, and she started to speak. Her husband grabbed her arm, twisting and telling her to shut up, but she shook him off, and said, "I'll talk, but I want a lawyer."

Greg heaved a shuddering sigh; it was over, or very nearly so. He started when he felt Gil's fingers smoothing across the wetness below his eyes. He hadn't realized he was crying, hadn't thought he had any more tears left. He opened his eyes to see Gil bringing his hand to his mouth, pressing the tips of his fingers against his mouth in an effort to stave off tears of his own.

Greg leaned against Gil, not caring that this wasn't the time or place, only knowing that he needed this, and so did Gil. He wrapped his arms around Gil's shoulders, pulling him in tight along the length of his body.

"It's okay, everything's going to be okay." It was what Gil always said when things went wrong, and really, it shouldn't make him feel better, but Greg knew that Gil believed it, and that was enough for him.

* * *

Cemeteries made Greg uncomfortable. He supposed it was odd for someone who did what he did for a living to feel that way, but he couldn't help it. He always felt out of place in cemeteries, as if his part of the journey ended when he solved the mystery of how a person died, and when they'd moved on, there was no room for him.

He stood at the end of the row where Kaylee was buried, looking toward the stone he'd had set at the head of the plot. It was hard to visit; five years had passed, and he still wondered if her favorite ice cream would be chocolate or strawberry, if she'd be a tomboy or like to play with dolls, if she'd like school or sports better.

After a year or two of worrying that there was something wrong, he went to the department shrink, who told him that his grief was natural, even grief for a little girl that he'd barely known. When he'd confessed to Gil, Gil had smiled and kissed him and told him that his big, soft heart was just one of the thousand reasons that he loved him.

Gil's hand at the small of his back brought him back to the present, and he led the way to Kaylee's grave. When he drew level with the stone, he placed the flowers he'd brought at the base, and knelt to touch the rosy granite. Gil squeezed his shoulder for a moment, and then wandered farther down the row, giving him some privacy. Greg watched Gil for a moment, then turned back to speak to Kaylee.

"Hey, sweetheart…"


End file.
